Not much happened today. I write this at 11.55pm, with little or no enthusiasm in me. Nothing in my head. No humour, jokes or inspiration. All i have is me, a packet of gum, a cup of tea (milk 3 sweeteners) and a pair of M&S old school pants (black) - on. Yes I'm that blank in the head I've resorted to writing what's in front of me.
Phone.
Computer
Candle
Gum (said that)
Cigarettes
Diet coke tin
Cup of tea
Werthers original
Hob knobs
American Co-Ed beaver fever 8
That pretty much sums me up. I should get out more.
Today we had a minor breakthrough for my website company, an investor is excited and interested in coming on board. Maybe 3 years of digging may come good. Who knows but it was a positive 4 hour meeting. I know Exciting huh, but 4 hours this afternoon!!. Long time. Don't get me wrong I'm excited about the company but That was almost Flog It, Cash in the Attic, Auction Hunters and The Hairy Bikers worth of tellie i missed. #dam
Startlingly i then wrote a draft business and investor plan. I know i know, what the fuck was i thinking of. I could have been checking out Quincy on C5 USA +1. Disappointed in myself.
I then arranged to go to my Mates gaff and listen to his Wedding speech he is delivering on Saturday. It was the last time I'll see him before Saturday. I'm 39 now so don't get invited to many weddings. I reached my peak at around 32-34 when all my pals were getting hitched, however i have remained resolutely single and resisted such tom foolery. All that wedding prep, churches, dresses, cakes, families, who to invite, who not to invite, present list, honeymoon. God so much. Besides its a waste of a good weekend.
Now as you know I'm a right miserable sod at heart, so whilst i love the whole idea of marriage of cementing your love and matrimony. Of committing yourself to each other. I actually believe in marriage, but fuck me do people have to make such a big deal out of it. £400 for hotels, whole weekend. Then the ones that have pre wedding, wedding then post wedding. Obviously if you're a mate you don't want to offend and turn up for a couple of hours and piss off again. But why so much fuss?
There's the fucking stag weekend which is another long un. £1k. Usually going to eastern Europe or fucking Vegas for a weekend. Either that or |Paintballing in Mid Wales. I mean whats wrong with a night out down the pub or an a ring stinging curry like in the old days? Instead of standing there cold and wet dressed in oversize camouflage overalls like some kind of Kwik Fit worker in the army, getting stung to fuck after being shot in the entire body with a gun full of paint. if i ever get hitched and my best man organises that - I'm going to swap the paint for real bullets and take him down.
Then you have the big day. The world stops. You as a man are forced to say you bride looks beautiful whilst thinking whats all the fuss with that white lacy dress. Pamela Anderson had it right getting married on a beach in a tiny bikini effectively looking like a whore from Snow White. Looks weird in Hounslow though.
Then you have the whole sit through church vows knowing they will never ever go to Church again and are the least spiritual people you know so whats the point in the religious ceremony, you clap, you throw rice, you disappear off to the reception shifting uncomfortably in your starch suit, thinking your mate has now been rendered cock less because the wedding is 3pm on a Saturday when all the sport is on and you can't watch it. Then its the reception where you feast on rather average food, with average company and a collection of people slowly getting pissed to ease the pain of boredom, dull table, the fact you are not married or jealousy/hatred.
After which its the speeches, endless formal toasts and thanks dished out to Auntie Nora you have no idea who she is but gets a round of applause anyway, then the brides father, the groom then the best man delivers the coup De grace as people begin to lose the will to leave. Grandmother is already asleep after 3 sherries too many.
Then the band or DJ comes on, the couple have their first dance. Well when i say dance more of a shuffle, as people take photos of them effectively doing nothing but chatting and moving side to side. The band then comes on, you get up and throw shapes that haven't even been invented yet, the buffet opens, you chat to the men stood resolutely at the bar by now legless and talking utter shit.
The couple depart late at night no doubt not to have sex as passion went out of their relationship years ago and the marriage is an excuse for a good party. The guests filter off and you go back to your overpriced hotel room and dread the fact there is another official post wedding BBQ tomorrow. By now you are sick of everyone and can't bare making yet more small talk and nonversatiion. But you have too i suppose. especially if your the Groom.
Good job I'm only going to the reception. I'm not a good enough mate to be invited to the whole thing. A bit like being on the subs bench for the Champions League final. Your nearly a good mate but not quite. You try not to take it personally but it is a bit of a sleight isn't it?
It's like being an Usher. Basically your mate is saying you're a good wing man, but you're just not quite a best mate material. An usher effectively does fuck all apart form drink, smoke and make inappropriate passes to the bridesmaid. The ones over age that is.
I have been an Usher 3 times and a best man once. I wasn't even a good enough mate when i was best man, as he drafted in a co best man. Like i needed a holding player next to me in the middle. It was a fucking disgrace i tell you. I had to share the glory of the speech and i never struck gold on the bridesmaid. And thats another thing why is such a fuss made about the bridesmaids dresses. All matching, flowers, hair, material. yet they nearly always look totally unfeminie and sexy. More Christmas Cracker than cracker. Some of them i've seen actually look like Cracker. Robbie Coltrane that is in Cracker.
So in a nutshell i cant wait for the wedding this weekend. I've booked the 4 star hotel for £265 a night and got the £60 tank of fuel to travel to the West Country, plus the new tie and shirt and of course obligatory sunbed. I'll send him an expenses sheet, but wait until after the reception to give it to him. Still at least it's in the West Country and not abroad. Now that is taking the piss. I mean yes i'm all for a holiday and stuff but usually not with 56 people. It's effectively 'Coach Trip' but with flowers.
For the record his speech was good although he refused to put in my 'i always finish off on the bride' gag. Can't think why? He's got no romance that mate of mine, although after this i think he'll be sending me my Mate P45. Only joking can't wait really
xx
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